


I'm No Angel

by NuclearMcDuck



Category: Supernatural
Genre: April Kelly rapes Castiel, Cas POV, Cas struggles with being human, Castiel Whump, Episode: I'm No Angel, F/M, Human Castiel, M/M, Pining Castiel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 23:35:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29990544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NuclearMcDuck/pseuds/NuclearMcDuck
Summary: Being human is a fundamental change in perspective.It's hard enough to be human without all of creation's remaining angels hunting you down. He feels so lucky when April finds him, cold, hungry, and alone.He isn't lucky.He isn't lucky at all.
Relationships: Castiel/April Kelly, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 10
Kudos: 22





	I'm No Angel

**Author's Note:**

> _Obviously warning for graphic rape!_
> 
> April the reaper manipulates Castiel, Castiel goes along feeling he has no alternative, and there will be a follow-up chapter for what happens next, of course!

Being human was a fundamental change in perspective.

The woman he'd met as he dug through trash in a back alley of a row of shops had given him a sandwich; peanut butter and jelly, bread perfectly soft, peanut butter smooth, jam sweet... The taste sublime.

He should use the energy to keep running, before the angels find him; but he's so tired, and the sandwich - though incredible - has only seemed to fuel his hunger. His body has had a taste of sustenance, and it was begging him for more.

He opts to wait there on the step just next to the bins, perhaps until the restaurant throws out their garbage at the end of the night. In the meantime, he weeps.

Weeps, because humanity had shown him the value of compassion.

Dean had mentioned PB&J sandwiches in passing; they were for children, for snacks; they were nostalgic for a childhood he'd never really had. Castiel had never given them much thought beyond that. Now, he had experienced hunger, and nothing that the woman with the Auburn hair could have offered to him would have had more value or meaning. And she had forgone her own lunch to do so.

And she had done it purely out of kindness.

Humans. They never ceased to amaze.

So he sat and wept, able to ignore the blisters on his feet, his incessant hunger, the sun burn on his skin, and even the hollow in his chest where a tumultuous mix of emotions churned - _missing Dean, hating himself for destroying Heaven, shame and guilt at what he'd done to the angels –_ all because a woman he'd never met before gave him a sandwich.

**  
** **╞╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╡**

By the time she came out of the little shop, it was raining; Castiel sat huddled, wet and frigid, on the stoop. He watched her pull out her umbrella, hurrying off in to the night.

He didn't dare call out to her. He had already taken her sandwich, he was in no position to ask for more. Even though his shoes were soaked through, and he couldn't feel his fingers or toes for the cold.

When she stopped and turned to him, he felt a flare of hope. He silently quashed it; he did not deserve to ask for more.

As it turned out, he didn't have to.

She brought him to her home - a charming apartment, much more pleasant than the run-down motels that the Winchesters frequented. The air was warm, and he basked in the safety he felt in the four walls as the woman closed the door behind them.

"Wow, it's beautiful," He said, admiring the soft furnishings and cleanliness; things he'd never noticed as an angel, but were now the most wonderful things he'd seen. A clean, safe place to sleep.

_All those kind people who I lived with on the street, and in the shelter_ , he thought, _deserve a home as lovely as this_.

"If you say so," She chuckled, shucking off her shoes and hanging up her coat and umbrella by the door. "I don't usually invite strange men home."

He startled, eyes dropping from the decor to watch her march across the room to pick up dirty clothes from the couches, hurriedly tossing them in the corner.

He had thought that he was doing quite well at being human, all things considered. "Am I strange?" He asked, oddly hurt. Perhaps a little worried, given that if he somehow insulted his host, he may well end up back in the pouring rain.

"No, I mean... Men I don't know," She explained, turning on a lamp. The warm glow made the room even more comforting.

Castiel cast his eyes to the floor, embarrassed.

"But you look like you've been to hell and back," She went on, still sorting out the odds and ends around the apartment, though less frantically.

"Yeah, a few times," He admitted, sliding his soaking jacket off his shoulders.

"April, by the way - April Kelly," She said as she pulled a towel out of a drawer and held it out to him.

"... Um, Castiel," He said. The least he could do was tell his saviour his name. He took the towel and dabbed his face dry.

"One name?" April pressed, edging closer.

Of course - humans in America had two names. "Yeah. Like God," He explained.

"Or Cher?" She quipped, and Cas mused that it was the sort of comment Dean might make.

April's face suddenly turned pale, mouth dropping open. "Uh... Not to raise any red flags," She said nervously, eyes on his shoulder. "But do you know that your shirt is soaked in blood?"

He glanced down at the wound; it had been irritating him since he'd been stabbed by the angel who'd found him at the homeless community in the previous town, but he had persevered. There had been no ability to heal, and no Dean or Sam to show him how to patch up his wounds. He'd tied the wound up as he'd seen the brothers do with cloth, but he'd had no ability to do anything more.

April sat him down on her couch and removed the cloth he'd used, holding it over the sink in clear disgust. "You call this rag a bandage?" She asked incredulously, dropping it into the sink to deal with later. "You're lucky this wasn't infected."

She joined him on the couch, the supplies she required to fix him laid out on the coffee table in front of them. "What happened to the guy who attacked you?"

"Oh, I stabbed him," Castiel explained.

April turned to him, the look of shock returning, face paling.

"... He exploded," He added, hoping that might clear the air. He didn't want to reveal too much and risk endangering her, after all that she'd done for him.

April was still a moment, before scoffing and turning back to the first aid supplies. "Funny," She said, tearing open a sanitising wipe. "You don't look like the knife fight type."

He grit his teeth as she patted the stab wound with the wipe, which stung; he had been a warrior as long as he had existed, but pain in the human form was so much more visceral than pain as an angel.

"Or the homeless type, actually," She added, a question in her voice.

"Yes, well... I guess I trusted the wrong person," He said, thoughts going to Metatron and his manipulations. _Every decision I make seems to be the wrong one_.

"Bad investment advice?" April guessed, pressing a cloth band-aid over the wound.

"No; vanity," He said, heart wrenching as he felt the truth of those words resonate within him. "I thought I was more important, more effective than I am, that I could... Fix everything."

Even knowing it was true, it hurt to say it out loud.

"And now, all I can do is keep running."

April nodded, lips pursed. "Well, all patched up," She said, eyeing over the wound, looking satisfied with her work. Her hands ran over his upper arm, sliding up his shoulder and moving to rub at his clavicle. "But, God, your delts are in knots. You've got to relax!"

She used both hands to gently knead at the tight muscles of his shoulder, which was relaxing, even if the area was sore and tender.

"Ah, it's all new to me," He said, hoping her gentle touches would continue. "Hunger. Cold." He glanced at her, and her eyes were warm and inviting, allowing him the space to continue.

After so long lost and struggling, the touch and comfort of another person was like standing in his favourite garden in heaven.

"This feeling, being all alone," He confessed, and he couldn't stop himself wondering where the Winchesters were now. He missed them so much that it hurt, and being human seemed to amplify the urge to be around them.

"You're not alone tonight?" April said softly, hands stilling.

Then she leaned in.

Castiel didn't move as she placed a light kiss on his cheek.

He didn't have any frame of reference, other than his kiss with Meg, which was very different. Unlike the arousal he had felt that time, fresh from watching a pornographic film, this felt warm, and tender. There was a softness in it that was comforting.

Nonetheless, Castiel felt uncomfortable.

He had seen the nature of modern sexual relations in the adult film he had seen; the babysitter had been unable to pay with money, and had paid for the pizzaman's service with her body.

Castiel didn't have any money. It may be the case that he would pay, regardless.

His eyes darted to her face, so close to his own; he was sure this was the type of woman that Dean would have carnal relations with. Slim, very little asymmetry in the face, young, and apparently eager.

Dean had wanted him to be with a woman; had practically pushed him at the woman in that den of iniquity all those years ago.

And Dean often spoke of how he preferred partners with experience.

Castiel didn't have any experience in this arena.

If he had to choose between lying with April and returning to the freezing cold street, to face sheets of rain that burned his skin like shards of ice, cold and alone...

He turned his head when she moved in again, pressing his lips to hers.

She was soft and warm, much like her home. He wasn't sure if he was doing this right, though he tried to let her take the lead. The press of their lips was gentle, and he would be happy to keep this at this level. Happier, still, to lay on the couch and finally sleep.

April managed to work her upper lip between his, and he parted his lips to let her deepen the kiss. Her tongue gently prised his mouth open, and her hands ran over his shoulders, gently pulling him towards her.

He let her move him, unsure of what to do with his own hands.

One of her hands found his neck, and he let her direct him to turn his head, and Castiel noted that the slight change in position made it easier for her to put her tongue in his mouth.

It was, truth be told, quite pleasant. He did feel a stirring in him that he had come to associate with arousal, but it was small, and the urge to lay on the couch cushions and sleep still felt stronger.

_What would Dean do?_ He wondered, easily able to picture the ways that Dean would run his hands over the women he flirted with just before he escorted them out of the bar and back to his motel room. Dean would run his hand over their arm, moving to their waist - much like April was doing to him, now.

He hesitantly copied her movements, trying to act with the confidence he'd witnessed in Dean.

He was so focused on his hands that he lost concentration on the kiss, and their teeth clacked together in a way that reverberated through his head.

"Oh - sorry!" April said quickly, pulling back just enough to look him in the eye. "Here, let me-"

She was quick to use one hand to direct his head to where she wanted it, making the angle better for her to continue kissing him. He kissed back as much as he was able, but most of his concentration went to ensuring that he didn't let his teeth get in the way again.

He didn't know how to proceed from this point, and a spike of anxiety shot through him as he considered that his performance might impact his ability to remain in her home.

April, however, seemed happy to direct him. "Touch me," She whispered against his lips, using the hand that wasn't holding his head in place to direct one of his hands to the hem of her shirt, guiding his fingers to slip beneath it.

He understood this part from the pizzaman; he slid his hand up her belly, knowing that her nipples would be sensitive.

Dean loved breasts. He found them very attractive, and presumably would enjoy touching them very much. How did he navigate the undergarments, though? Cas' hand touched the coarse lace of April's bra, and he wasn't sure how to access her nipples without breaking the kiss...

April seemed to sense his hesitance, guiding his hand again to lay the meat of his palm over the cup of her bra. "Squeeze," She said, and he did so, eliciting a soft gasp.

She then used her hand to run up and down the top of his thigh, slotting her hand at the junction of his hip and inner thigh at the apex of the slide. Her slender fingers brushed his penis ever so slightly, and it sent an unexpected jolt through him.

He tipped his head back involuntarily, breaking the kiss. "Oh," He said softly, overwhelmed.

Is this how Dean felt with all of those women?

"Hey," April said, the hand on his head guiding his lips back to hers.

April seemed content with that for a few minutes - him, experimentally squeezing at her bosom, her hand running over his leg, occasionally dipping to brush at the growing bulge in his damp jeans.

She kept one hand on his head to direct him, but the hand on his leg moved to pull his hand out of her shirt. "Here, touch me here..."

She pulled his hand by the wrist to place his hand between her legs, insistently pressing his fingers to the point on her jeans that lay directly over her genitals.

She demonstrated what she wanted him to do by making him rub his fingers up and down the seam of the jeans, focusing on a point near the top of the slide, rubbing small circles into that spot.

When she was done directing him, she moved her own hand between his legs...

He didn't jolt away, but he did jolt, shocked by the intensity of the feeling.

" _Ungh..._ " He groaned as her hand found the edges of the bulge in his jeans and squeezed.

He had trouble concentrating on all three things at once; not messing up the kiss, stroking between April's legs in a steady rhythm, struggling not to wriggle away from the overwhelming sensations of April's hand in his lap. To top it all off, his stomach felt tight and he felt the now-familiar nausea of hunger creeping in on him, making his head feel light.

Perhaps if his performance was satisfactory, she would give him another sandwich.

April's hand slipped lower, below where his erection was trapped against his jeans, to knead at his testicles. It felt... Good. The heat emanating from his groin seemed to travel up, towards his belly. Each time she pressed her palm into his testes, there seemed to be a responding pulse up through the centre of him.

The rhythmic movement of his hand between her legs was starting to hurt his wrist, but he dutifully maintained the slow, firm drag of his fingers.

The hand on the back of his head suddenly fisted in his hair, pulling him back to break the kiss.

"This would be better without clothes, don't you think?" April breathed, and he could see how her pupils had dilated with lust.

If they were going to lie together, then obviously some clothing would need to be removed. "Yes," He responded, relieved to be able to remove his hand from between her legs, even if it was only momentarily.

He had assumed that he would undress himself, but suddenly April's hands were unbuttoning his shirt, and he wasn't able to do much more than sit there and be undressed; he couldn't reciprocate while her hands were busy.

"Undo your fly while I do this," She said urgently, and he obediently set about undoing the button on his pants and pulling down the zip.

He had to pause once she had undone all of the buttons to allow her to pull his sleeves off of his arms.

She pulled his undershirt off without preamble, which irritated the wound on his arm. He grunted in pain, but April didn't seem to notice, now rapidly shucking off her own clothes.

She stood up to push down her jeans. "You too," She said, nodding at his pants.

Castiel stood and pushed his pants down, hesitating for a moment on the boxers.

April had already removed all of her clothes, her body on display. She even looked like the women at the club that Dean had taken him to; firm, curvy in all the places Dean liked. "Let me help," She said, her fingers digging under the waistband of the boxers and pushing them down to his ankles. "Step out of them," She ordered, and he did.

Dean liked it when women were bossy with him; it was a pattern that Castiel had picked up on. Personally, he didn't see the appeal. He had been human long enough to feel nervous being so exposed, and he held one hand over his erection, careful not to touch it.

"C'mon, let me see it," April chided, pulling the hand away by the wrist.

Castiel knew that he was a mess right now. He was dirty from his time on the street, bruised all over from his recent fight with the angel who'd found him, bony in places from starving. Still, he let April inspect him. She seemed to like what she saw.

"So cute," She sounded almost amused, tilting her head to the side.

She grabbed his shoulders without preamble and pushed him down on the couch - he fell flat on his back, his head hitting the arm of the couch, sending a shock wave through his head.

He recalled Dean recounting a woman he'd been with - describing her as, " _Rough. Fun, but_ rough _._ " He wondered if this was what that meant.

His vision swam a little, the pain in his head pounding, but receding. April climbed onto his lap and grabbed his erection firmly - it had flagged a little, but she seemed determined to bring it back full force.

Her hand was rough on him, but some combination of the stimulation and anxiety managed to get him back to where April wanted him.

Castiel tried to move his head so that the back of his neck wasn't pressing quite so hard into the couch, the wood frame digging uncomfortably into him even through the soft padding. "Can we-"

April surged forward and silenced him with a kiss, hand still working him, her other hand between her own legs. He knees were planted either side of his hips, and he was knowledgeable enough to know the basic mechanics of what would come next.

April released his lips, her forehead pressing into his. "How many people have you had before me?" She whispered, lowering onto him.

"No one," He confessed, breath catching in his throat as she sunk down on him.

Overwhelming wasn't sufficient to describe the way that his awareness seemed to narrow down to the place with their bodies connected, especially when April started moving without any time for him to adjust. She kept her hands on his shoulders, pushing him down as she used the her hands to balance her weight as she gyrated her hips, rising and lowering with her deceptively strong thighs.

He couldn't move in this position, April thoroughly pinning him in place, and he wasn't sure how he was supposed to participate in the act, if at all. April seemed content to take what she wanted from him. Cas very much felt the baby sitter to April's pizzaman.

"So I'm your first, huh?" She said through heaving breaths, finally resting in his lap and grinding her hips in a rough circle. "No one else before me? At all?"

"No," He confirmed, awkwardly resting his palms on her thighs. He had convinced himself that he had given up on Dean ever wanting him this way, but the thought of Dean at this moment - it sparked something.

April continued to roll and circle her hips on him, her hands moving from his shoulders to wrap around his neck; it was particularly painful, given that the arm of the couch was still digging into the base of his skull, and now April was anchoring her weight there.

... But Dean, Dean would have been gentle. He knew that about him. He had visited Dean many times as an angel - sometimes just watching his dreams, helping to keep his nightmares at bay. But a man who engaged in as much sexual activity as Dean Winchester was bound to have it follow him to his sleeping mind, and sure enough, Castiel had witnessed several of his ward's sexual fantasies.

He had even starred in some of them.

His vision was darkening as April's hands around his throat cut off his circulation, but somehow, he wasn't worried about it; the memory of Dean dreaming of taking Castiel, kissing him softly on the lips, making love to him...

His back arched as he came, nearly unseating April, who had to flail and grab the couch for support. The aftershocks of his release seemed to run through his groin and up through his vagus nerve in receding pulses. April looked annoyed, but at least his neck was free.

"I didn't finish," She complained, trying to hold him in place.

Shaken by his orgasm, he tried to sit up, but couldn't move with April still sitting on him... _Around_ him.

"I'm... Sorry," He said in a small voice. "How can I help you... Finish?"

April paused to consider this, eyes calculating. "Hmm... Why don't you let me sit on your face?" She added a charming smile to the question.

Castiel felt nervous about doing that in their current position - with his neck against the wooden frame of the chair, he felt his neck might snap.

"Could we do that in a more... Suitable location?" He asked, biting his lip as she considered.

"The bed?" She suggested, and he nodded eagerly.

"Okay," He said, letting her grab his wrist again to drag him into the bedroom. He glanced over his shoulder, wistfully eyeing the fridge and couch, before April steered him into her room and shoved him backwards onto the bed.

He was on his back again, but at least now there was nothing digging into his neck.

April crawled over him, climbing over his body, planting her knees on either side of his shoulders and perching herself over his face.

He could see his spend at her opening, everything gooey and glistening, the outer lips parted obscenely.

Then she descended.

"Use your tongue," She ordered, and he did, tasting himself on her. He didn't particularly enjoy the taste, but it was bearable - though he was having difficulty ensuring that his nose was free enough for him to breath as she ground down, chasing her pleasure by rubbing her clitoris against his face.

He had learned from the kiss to try and keep his teeth away from the action, and he was able to use his tongue to try and stimulate whatever he could reach. It seemed to be working, if April's vigorous grinding and panting were anything to go by.

"Going to fucking ruin you," She breathed, grasping the headboard for support as she ground down particularly hard.

He did his best to keep breathing through his nose, but it was difficult.

"Going to make you so fucking _dirty_ -"

Right, this was dirty talk. Dean enjoyed this, as well. He was finding that a lot of the things Dean described as desirable were proving to be... lacklustre, at best. He worried that Dean might be disappointed in him; most other things that Dean had shown him about being human - music, greasy food, family, love - had all been things he'd thoroughly enjoyed. The enjoyment of sex seemed to be one of Dean's defining features, and Castiel didn't know how Dean would react to hearing that his angel wasn't managing to achieve that.

His entire chin was now soaked with their combined fluids, beard wet with it. He hoped she let him wash his face in the basin afterwards. Other humans were insulted enough by how he smelled already, let alone the state he would be in after this.

_April is kind_ , he reminded himself. _She will let you. And if not, there will be a public restroom in any nearby park or mall_.

He still tried to use his tongue to stimulate her, but she seemed more interested in grinding her clit on his nose - he managed to take a few sharp inhales here and there, but he was starting to feel light-headed again.

She pressed down particularly hard, and his face was washed by a rush of fluid - April groaned loudly, wiping her labia up and down his face a few times before falling to the side and lying in a heap.

Castiel lay still, listening to her haggard breathing, his own breaths coming in quick, short gasps. April didn't move from her position either, looking tired - and sated.

"Go wash up," She said, waving a dismissive hand. "Body wash in the shower, make yourself smell nice - and help yourself to whatever's in the fridge."

Castiel didn't need to be told twice. Despite now feeling quite sore, he shot up, going to the shower first. His appetite seemed to have waned, but the promise of a shower was enticing.

The water pressure in April's apartment was incredible, and the hot water _actually ran hot_. It was so different to the communal bathroom at the church's men's shelter. There was no mould, only an array of brightly coloured bottles of various cleansing products.

He found several labelled "body wash", and opted to try them all. They smelled like fruits, and flowers. The _Tropical Mango with Coconut Oil_ wash smelled so good that he was tempted to eat it, but he knew that the taste wouldn't live up to his expectation. He scrubbed his face, washing off April's slick, then under his arms, then washing off the various patches of dirt that clung to his skin.

He hesitated before cleaning his genitals, feeling unsure of himself.

There wasn't any reason to feel that way. He had washed them many times now, as they were a part of the human body that had a tendency to become odorous. He found that it helped to look at the ceiling when he cleaned them, hands working busily to wash the mess from between his legs.

He wanted to stay in the shower forever, even after he had cleaned off all of the filth and grime. However, he didn't want to overstay his welcome, and though this bathroom was superior to the men's shelter, he still didn't know how long the hot water would last.

He stepped out, not sure if he should grab a towel. He also didn't have clean clothes, and the dirty clothes that he _did_ have were on the living room floor.

He felt guilty as he attempted to pat himself dry with the hand towel, ensuring that he wasn't dripping before he walked softly back into the bedroom - April appeared to be resting, an arm draped over her eyes. He padded softly into the kitchen, eager to see what the fridge held.

He wasn't disappointed; there was a small leftover container with some sort of chicken and noodle dish, which took out and ate cold with one hand, the other hand pushing aside a few jars of various condiments to find a leftover plate of lasagna.

He also drank a litre of orange juice, before his stomach decided that he couldn't physically fit anything else in.

He had taken more than he had meant to. He was quick to throw the empty orange juice bottle in the bin, as well as the takeaway container. He rinsed the plate the lasagna had been on, and hoped that April would be okay with how much he'd taken - she had, after all, said he could help himself to _anything_.

Besides, he'd paid.

"Hey," April's voice called out, and he startled, eyes jumping guiltily to the bin with the bottle and container. "Come back in here."

Had she heard him eat, and decided it was too much?

He followed her voice back to the bedroom, and found her on her back on top of the covers, fingering herself open.

"Not done with you," She smiled, beckoning him closer with the hand that wasn't... _Busy_.

She _must_ have heard how much he'd eaten, and decided that his debt was not yet paid.

"Alright," He said, sitting on the bed beside her. "What do you want me to do?"

"What does it _look_ like?" She chuckled, grabbing his arm to pull him onto the bed. "Get between my legs and fuck me."

That meant that he had to get hard again, and he wasn't sure how to do that. Instead, he rolled across the bed to lay on his belly below her, lowering his face where she wanted it.

It was much easier, like this - not being crushed, able to actually move. It was also harder, because now April wasn't in control; _he_ was. And he didn't know what to do.

_She liked her clitoris stimulated_ , he thought, gingerly lapping at the little bundle of folded flesh at the apex of her labia.

"Like _that_ , yes..." April moaned, the hand that had been fingering herself how busy grabbing his hair to hold his head down. "Put your fingers in me!"

He had seen her using two fingers on herself, so he attempted the same. It was wet, and sticky, and very warm. He tried to push them in and out, like he'd seen her do.

"Hey-!" She yanked his hair to bring his eyes up to meet hers. "Watch the fingernails," She snapped, and he was quick to pull his fingers free of her.

"No, put them back in," She corrected, "Just... Bend them a little, try and touch with the _pads_ of your fingers."

He did so, still making eye contact with her - unable to move away, as she still had an iron grip on his hair.

"Good boy," She purred. "Now, try sliding them along the top a bit more - _Yes_ , like that... Quick learner, aren't you? Now faster."

With that, she pushed his head back down, and he went back to work licking at her.

It wasn't a comfortable position, with one arm underneath him to hold him up, the other bent awkwardly to finger her, his neck straining as he held his head at the right angle to orally stimulate her...

And his now full belly protested being held down against the bed.

But April was moaning, and her legs were grasping at him, which he took to be a good sign.

He was somewhat proud of himself for managing to do this, and he hoped that Dean would be pleased to hear that he was a _quick learner_. He hoped that he got the chance to see Dean again, and he could tell him about this encounter. Dean would be thrilled, might even take him somewhere to celebrate. If he asked for details, maybe he could offer to show him... Show what a quick learner he was.

The thought had his blood rushing south, and that familiar tugging at his pelvis grew, penis twitching with interest.

He paused in his ministrations, surprised by the development.

April pressed his face into her by his hair when he stopped. "Keep going," She said roughly, clearly close.

Castiel managed to turn his face to the side, explaining, "I'm hard."

The hand on the back of his head let go, and he looked up at her; she seemed pleased.

"Perfect, get in me," She said.

He wasn't sure if that was what he wanted, but his wrist was starting to ache again from the repetitive strain of servicing her, so maybe it would be better to go along with it.

He wasn't sure if he was supposed to lay down and let her ride him again - until she grabbed onto his waist with her legs and pulled him down on top of her.

"Like this," She explained, reaching a hand between them to line him up with her.

He got the gist, taking over, managing to find her entrance and guide himself in with only a little fumbling.

He slid in relatively easily, and it felt... Good. He leaned over April, planting his hands next to her shoulders, her legs wrapping tightly around his hips. _Dean would enjoy this_ , he thought, and that gave him the courage to experiment with sliding out a little.

"C'mon, honey," April cooed, pushing his hips with her legs. "Little faster."

_I did eat her food_ , he reasoned, obeying her command, speeding up his thrusts. His muscles weren't used to the movement, but it was easier if he focused on the pleasure, rather than the exertion on his weakened body.

It was easier, still, if he kept thinking about what Dean would think of this.

April was clearly enjoying herself, mouth hanging open and little gasps escaping her with each thrust. Dean would be proud to know he could elicit this reaction; if he were here, perhaps he could instruct Castiel. Dean would know what position was more comfortable, especially for his sore arm, which was currently carrying most of his weight.

Dean might ease him down on the bed and show him the best way to stroke oneself to a proper erection. He hadn't had the opportunity to explore himself that way, yet, and he'd been lucky to be erect for April, but he wasn't really sure how he was doing it.

Dean would know, and could show him. Dean could... Demonstrate.

He licked his lips, thrusting a little harder. The heat was building, pooling in his gut. April threw her head back as he pushed into her in earnest, her cries increasing in volume and pitch.

Dean wouldn't remove his jeans, he would just lower them enough to free his erection. Cas would do the same, following his lead. Dean would show Castiel how to stroke himself - tell him how _he_ liked to be touched. Castiel would copy his movements exactly, showing him how quickly he could master this new skill.

Castiel could show him the skills he'd learned here; he could kneel in front of Dean and show him that he could orally pleasure someone. He may have been with a woman, but the skills must have been somewhat transferable; Dean could give him pointers, too - could tell him how to suck him, what to do with his hands, tell him how much he loved Castiel's mouth-

He was thrusting hard into her now, the bed creaking under them, April crying out and clawing at him, her legs locked around him as he sought the high he was chasing.

April screamed, clamping down on him and lunging up to bite his neck - he didn't even register the pain, too caught up in the thought of Dean saying his name as he spilled over his face, breathlessly crying, " _Cas_..." as he marked Castiel as his with his seed.

_Dean..._ He pressed as hard as he could into April, spurting inside of her, grinding deep as he spent himself with a low groan that vibrated in his chest, his whole body locked in a hard spasm as he came.

Castiel, penis softening and slipping out, rolled to lie beside April, collapsing on his back.

Okay, perhaps he was starting to understand this sex thing.

April wiggled a little, grabbing at the comforter and pulling it up over them. They lay like that for a while, Castiel feeling oddly pleased now. He had done well, he thought. April had enjoyed it. He had... He had definitely enjoyed that. And he was clean, and his belly was full.

Everything seemed much brighter, now.

"Well, say something," April said, turning her head to look at him.

He didn't want to mention his hesitancy, and it seemed rude to bring up that he had had someone else on his mind. There were a series of complex emotions that he had experienced over the course of the evening, and he was still wary of insulting her. He wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in this bed.

It was easy to say something vague, but ultimately true; "There aren't words."

"So, that was okay?" April asked, brow furrowing a little.

His entire body seemed to be suffused with a calmness he couldn't describe now, for all that he had been hesitant throughout. So it felt true to say, "Very much so."

He paused, a sudden thought bursting his happy bubble. "Um..." He found the courage to turn his head to meet her eyes. "What I did, that was, uh..." He would feel such a fool if he were to run bragging to Dean about his prowess, if only to find out he was inadequate, " _Correct?_ "

April smiled warmly and nodded. "Very much so."

Relief flooded him, escaping him in a sigh. "Good," He smiled back at her, and the tension broke as they both laughed.

_This isn't as hard as I made it seem_ , he thought, turning his head back to face the ceiling, ready to fall asleep at any moment.

April had other ideas, rolling over and laying at arm over him. "Castiel," She said, intent in her voice; he hoped that she didn't want to go again. "I can't help thinking... All that stuff you said earlier, about blame, and guilt?"

Castiel looked down, hands clenching at the comforter.

"It seems like you're taking on a heavy load, for such a sweet guy?" She stared at him imploringly.

He sighed heavily, again unable to meet her eyes. "Believe me, I've done a lot of foolish, unwise things," He admitted, debating how much he ought to say. He didn't want to endanger April after all she'd done for him, but... He also wanted... Wanted to _talk_.

April kept staring, and he found himself filling the silence. "I'm no angel.

April chuckled, before she met his eyes again. "Well... Whoever you trusted, can't they help undo this?"

_Metatron had locked himself in Heaven_. _That bastard was holed up beyond the reach of angels, let alone mortal men_. "We're not in contact," Was what he said.

"So what happens next for you?" April asked, kind eyes locked on his.

Cas considered his life on the run, freezing and being assaulted, finding the ruined corpses of the people the angels chose to torture in their efforts to find him, considered starving on the street while he struggled to maintain the physical body he resided in, barely surviving, yet alone fitting in alongside humanity.

Then he considered the safe bubble of April's apartment - water, food, bathing, soft couches and a bed. Warmth, safety. "More of this, I hope," He said, leaning in to kiss her. She wrapped an arm around him and pulled him closer, and he realised that his kiss of gratitude had been interpreted as an invitation to further sexual activity.

Well, it was her house... He supposed he owed her that much. Besides... Everything he learned here was a step closer to... To telling Dean. To telling Dean that he... That he was experienced. Sexual. A fast learner.

To appealing to Dean.

**  
** **╞╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╡**

In the morning he got to shower again, and April offered him a towel. He still didn't look at his genitals as he washed them. It was just easier that way.

He came out, surprised to see that his clothes were clean. He put them on, feeling more like himself with each layer he added.

Until he got to the jacket, which was draped over a chair in the living room. It felt too light, wrong - and the reason why was clear.

His blade was missing.

He felt it up and down, wondering if it had slipped out of the sleeve perhaps, but all he felt was cloth...

"Oh, I washed your stuff," April said, glancing up from the breakfast she was preparing. "Find everything okay?"

"As a matter of fact, something's missing," He said, eyes scanning the ground of the living room. It must have fallen out last night, when April had undressed him...

"Oh?" April questioned, resuming cutting the fruit.

"It was with my jacket," He said, approaching her, though his eyes kept darting around the room. Under the couch, maybe...? He wanted to ask, but how could he tell April he had a sword? She might not take well to knowing he had a weapon. "It's... Hard to describe."

"Oh, you mean this?" She asked, turning around with-

With his blade.

She'd been cutting fruit with it.

He stopped dead in his tracks, less than two feet from her. She casually held the pointed end up to his throat.

_No._

He stared at her in disbelief, his entire body going cold.

April laughed softly, pressing the point of the sword into his chin, forcing him to lift his head.

_No, no, no, no…_


End file.
